


Beginning of the End

by JJJunky



Category: Young Riders
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJJunky/pseuds/JJJunky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kid returns from the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginning of the End

Beginning of the End  
By JJJunky

 

As he walked up to the barn, he saw nothing had changed. Four long and bloody years had transformed a nation but they hadn't changed Emma Shannon's ranch. The main house sported a fresh coat of white paint brightly reflecting the late August sun. Horses still filled the corrals though they were fewer in number. However, there was no sign of a human presence.

The initial facade of abandonment disappeared with the appearance of a slightly stooped figure. A dusty bowler hat covered long white locks. Somehow it seemed fitting that Teaspoon Hunter would be the first person he would see upon his return.

The white head jerked up sharply as a hand instinctively reached for the gun strapped to his hip. Recognition was slow and hesitant. "K-Kid?"

"Nice to see you, Teaspoon."

The older man slowly crossed to the dusty figure. Unshed tears filled the brown eyes. "We thought you were dead."

"Those Yankees sure tried hard enough."

Obviously uncertain how an emotional welcome would be received, Teaspoon hesitated before finally succumbing to his inner desires. Wrapping his arms around the thin body, he pulled the Kid close. He was hurt, but not surprised when the embrace was not returned.

Gently easing out of the trembling arms, the Kid pointed to the tin star pinned to Teaspoon's shirt. "I see you're still the temporary Marshal."

"Between the war and the Indian threats, findin’ a man willin’ to fill the post has been difficult. I guess they figure even an old man is better than nothin'."

"When you're a hundred, you'll never be old, Teaspoon."

Eyes thoughtfully studied a young face that had aged little in the intervening years. Only the eyes reflected the horror they had witnessed in a war that could have no winner.

"Where's your horse son?" asked Teaspoon glancing around the deserted yard.

"Don't got one. Some Yankee officer took a likin' to her."

Teaspoon's heart ached at the pain he could hear in the confession. Katy had meant more to the Kid than mere transportation. Parting with her was the final torment in four long years of suffering.

Slapping the boy on the shoulder, Teaspoon fanned away the dust he'd released. "All that walkin' must've built a powerful appetite. I was about to sit down to lunch. I'd be proud if you'd join me."

Emotion tightening his throat, the Kid could only nod agreement. He had been scared to return. More scared than he had been at Manassas, Sharpsburg, Chanellorsville or Gettysburg. For   
when he left he had done so under a cloud of anger and suspicion.

 

_Are you crazy?" Jimmy demanded grabbing the shirt the Kid was trying to pack in his saddlebag. "This war has nothin' to do with you."_

"But it does Jimmy. I'm a Virginian."

"What's that got to do with anythin'?"

"Would you sit here and do nothin' if soldiers invaded Illinois?"

"That's different. They're not askin' me to fight for somethin' I don't believe in."

The Kid sent an apologetic glance to Noah. "I'm not goin' to fight for slavery."

"That's not the way it looks from here," Noah contradicted.

Curiosity plainly written on his face, Cody asked, "If it's not slavery, then why are ya goin'?"

"To fight for freedom. For the right to decide for themselves how a state will choose it's course," Buck replied, acknowledging the Kid's nod of gratitude. "It's a dream my people can sympathize with."

"Lou can't you stop him?" Jimmy desperately appealed.

Arms wrapped protectively across her chest, Lou shook her head, "I tried, but he won't listen to me either."

His voice soft yet firm Noah asserted, "A man who fights for somethin' he don't believe in is a liar to himself and his beliefs."

"A man has to listen to his heart," Buck defended, "or he will no longer be a man."

"Let go of my shirt Jimmy," the Kid firmly requested.

Hickok angrily threw the cotton garment to the floor. "I hope you rot in hell." 

 

"You got your wish Jimmy," the Kid whispered, sadly following Teaspoon into the bunkhouse.

"You all right, Kid?" asked Teaspoon.

Moved by the concern he saw on the older man's face, the Kid nodded, "Memories got a way of haunt'n a body."

"It can be pleasant when they're happy."

"Don't seem ta have too many of them these days," the Kid reluctantly admitted. Ignoring the pity he saw written on the weathered face, the Kid glanced around the almost bare bunkhouse. "Where is everybody?"

Dishing food onto two plates, Teaspoon put them on the table and waited until the emaciated boy had taken a seat before he sat down himself. Conversation lagged as food claimed their full attention.

Quickly satisfied, the Kid pushed his plate away and leaned his elbows on the table. "That was good, Teaspoon, thanks."

"It's not as good as Emma or Rachel would've done but it fills the stomach."

"Rachel's not here anymore then?"

"She married Bob Rivers, they bought a spread out Cottonwood way. Got two youngun's with another on the way. Sometimes, I think she longs for the days when she only had seven pony express riders to look after."

The Kid smiled reminiscently. "She sure had her hands full."

"Emma and Sam have three boys," Teaspoon continued. "The territorial governor sent Sam to Washington, D.C. as one of his representatives. They were there when Lincoln was assassinated. They still haven't gotten over the shock. But then who in this country has."

"So that's why Sam was at Appamatox Courthouse," the Kid muttered.

 

The official surrendering ceremonies were over. Hope and pride had disappeared three days before when Lee had tried to hand his sword to Grant. Now the last humiliation was in motion - surrendering of arms. Stacking his rifle with the others, the Kid backed away defiantly raising his eyes to meet those of the Union delegation. It was with a sense of shock and shame that he recognized a man standing at the rear.

Turning sharply, the Kid walked briskly down the narrow lane, his men falling raggedly into step behind him. They were what was left of Colonel J.E.B. Stuart's cavalry. After years in the saddle, walking particularly marching, did not come easy to the exhausted men.

The Kid didn't stop until they reached the grove where they had camped for the last week. He wasn't surprised when a familiar voice stopped him before he could enter his tent.

"Kid?"

Taking a deep breath, the Kid forced a smile to his lips before turning. "Hello Sam."

"When you walked up there, I thought I was seeing a ghost. Why didn't you write? We thought you were dead."

"The boy you once knew is dead, Sam."

"Not to us." Silence followed the older man's admission. Feeling strangely frightened, Sam continued, "Why don't I see what I can do about gettin' you out of here, so we can go somewhere and talk. Emma will be so happy to see you."

"No!" Eyes burning out of a white face, the Kid refused, "I don't want no special treatment, Sam. I won't leave my men."

Cain glanced around at the men who protectively surrounded their Captain. Some were old enough to be his father. Others were mere children no more than fourteen or fifteen years old. All were emaciated and dirty. Yet, the boy who commanded them had obviously gained their loyalty and trust.

"There is one thing you could do for me though." The voice that had been angry and defensive was now soft and pleading.

Hesitantly Sam nodded, "What is it?"

"Don't tell Teaspoon and the others you've seen me."

"Emma would . . ."

"Not even Emma," the Kid interrupted.

Surprise turned to puzzlement, "Why?"

"At least for now I'd like to stay dead."

"Kid you don't know what you're askin'. You don't lose a member of your family without pain."

"And if I choose to stay away it'll only hurt 'em more."

"It's your home. Why wouldn't you go back?"

The voice was so low it could barely be heard, "I don't know if I have the courage."

 

"Sam saw you and he didn't tell us?" Teaspoon angrily demanded.

"I asked him not to."

"When did he start taken orders from a . . ."

"Captain," the Kid interrupted.

"Huh?"

"I was a captain, Teaspoon, not a boy. I sent countless men to their deaths with a bullet or an order."

"Was one of those men Noah Dixon?" a familiar voice demanded from the open door.

"Hickok what are you doin' here?" asked Teaspoon in surprise. "As my deputy, you're supposed to be guardin' the honest citizens of Sweetwater."

Hickok ignored the older man. His eyes never wavered from the pale face of a boy he'd once called friend. "Was he?"

"Noah's dead?" The Kid closed his eyes wishing they could close out a truth he didn't want to hear.

Gently Teaspoon explained, "Noah was taken prisoner when confederate forces recaptured Plymouth in '64."

"Do you know what they did to him?" Hickok slowly crossed from the door to the table. Putting his hands on the hard wood he leaned forward. "They beat his brains out with the butt of a rifle after he'd surrendered."

His eyes still closed, the Kid slipped his hands over his ears. With two of his senses diminished, the world mercifully became far away and unreal.

Pulling the Kid's arms down, Hickok pressed them firmly to the table. "Were you there?"

"What does it matter?"

"It matters." Loosening his grip, Jimmy sat on the bench opposite the Kid. "It matters a lot."

"My brother was riding ahead of me outside a town called Manassas. A cannonball struck him just below the left shoulder. Knocked his head clean off. I couldn't swerve Katy in time to avoid it. I can still hear the sound of crushing bone. It happened in a field where we use to play when we were children."

"I didn't know you had another brother," the belligerence was gone from Hickok's voice.  
 __

_"Hurry up Kid! Ma's gonna tan our backsides for bein' so late," Jed admonished._

_Ignoring the stitch in his side, the Kid tried to force his legs to move faster. It seemed as though he'd spent most of his life trying to keep up with his brothers. At twelve, David was only two years older but he was almost as tall as Jed. Nature had afforded him an unfair advantage over his younger brother._

_Suddenly his right foot caught in the weeds and he fell to the ground. Before the Kid could regain his senses and continue on, he felt himself being lifted to his feet. With Jed holding one arm and David the other, the three boys quickly descended the hill. Though he could see his legs moving, the Kid never felt the ground beneath his feet._

_Just before exiting the dense woods leading up to their shack, Jed stopped. "Now remember Kid, you don't know nuthin' about old man Neville's garden patch."_

_"I can't lie, Jed."_

_"You won't have to and neither will David and me. Nobody would ever believe you picked those vegetables. They'll never accuse you."_

_"But," David continued, "since you did pick 'em, me and Jed won't be lyin' when we say we didn't."_

_A frown marked the young face as the Kid protested, "I don't think Ma is gonna like it."_

_"When we go git those carrots and potatoes outta the creek tomorrow and give 'em to her she won't say a word," Jed confidently contradicted. "She can't stand seein' you little ones so hungry."_

_"I ain't little," the Kid protested._

_"No you ain't," David soothed, "and you can prove it by doin' what we tell ya."_

_The Kid reluctantly agreed, "All right. It'll sure be nice when Pa comes back."_

_"Nice!" Jed snapped indignantly. "You like gettin' beat on?"_

_"No, but at least we weren't hungry when he was here. And maybe Ma wouldn't feel so poorly if he came back," the Kid defiantly asserted._

_Jed reluctantly backed down obviously impressed by his little brother's defense. "All right Kid, calm down. You don't want Ma to see you like this. If she asks why we're late, just say we were playin'."_

_Leaving the trees, the three boys were surprised to see several wagons pulled up close to the small shack. Crying could be heard coming from one of the buggies. As it pulled abreast of the boys, the Kid could see the cries were coming from his youngest sister Charlotte._

_"Jed, what's wrong?" the Kid fearfully demanded. "Where are the Brownlee's taken Charlotte?"_

_"I don't know but I aim to find out."_

_His short legs lending him a distinct disadvantage, the Kid followed his brothers as fast as he could. Finally entering the cabin he was surprised to find it crowded. People from town and the surrounding farms filled the limited space._

_"What's goin' on?" Jed asked._

_His face somber, Doc Peters explained, "Your Ma died this mornin' son. Apparently, she didn't follow my advice and stay off her feet."_

_"Ma was that sick?" Jed's voice sounded hollow as he admitted, "She never told us."_

_"I guess she didn't want to worry you," Doc Peters soothed._

_Determined that no one would see how badly he hurt, the Kid demanded, "Where are the Brownlee's taken Charlotte?"_

_"To their home, they've kindly agreed to raise Charlotte as their own. In fact, we've found homes for all of you. Mr. and Mrs. Crocker have graciously agreed to take you Kid." Dr. Peters smiled benevolently. "It's about time you started using your Christian name anyway."_

_"No!" The Kid fearfully backed away right into the arms of Mr. Crocker. He had been seven before he even knew he had a Christian name. Jed had started calling him Kid while he was still a baby and somehow the name had stuck. No one would ever make him answer to another. "Jed, David, don't let 'em take me."_

_Grabbing his brother's arm, Jed protested, "I can take care of my little brothers and sisters."_

_"You're only a boy yourself," Peters pointed out. "I'm sorry, son, this is the only solution."_

_Jed's hands were gently pried off the Kid's arm. Tugging defiantly at the arms circling his shoulders, the Kid screamed, "Don't let 'em take me Jed! Please! David, I don't wanna go!"_

_Tears blurred the Kid's last sight of his brothers, tears that would never fall. He would mourn the loss of his mother, his brothers and sisters in his heart but no one would ever see his pain._

__The Kid finally opened his eyes. "I wasn't in Plymouth, Jimmy. But that won't make Noah rest any easier."

Suddenly the bunkhouse seemed devoid of heat, though it was a hot summer day. The memories of the laughter and the tears they'd shared could not dispel the recent heartaches. The Kid shivered, deeply regretting this new loss. Wondering if he had the strength to endure any more, he hesitantly asked, "What happened to Cody, Buck, and Ike?"

Teaspoon and Hickok exchanged glances before the latter finally explained, "Cody was a Union scout like me durin' the war. He's workin' for the railroad in Kansas now."

"Buck went back to his people," Teaspoon continued. "There's been a lot of Indian trouble lately with so many whites movin' west and tryin' to push 'em off their land."

"I wouldn't have understood why he would go back four years ago but I do now," the Kid admitted.

Shifting uneasily in his seat, Hickok announced, "Ike got married."

"That's great!" For the first time since he arrived, the Kid really smiled. "Who's the lucky lady?"

"Lou," Teaspoon gently stated.

"They thought you were dead, Kid," Hickok hastily defended. "That was the only reason we could think of that’d stop you from writin'."

The Kid rose to his feet. Crossing to the window he stared out into the dusty yard. He finally admitted to himself that it had been Lou who had brought him back and now she was lost to him, forever. "I couldn't write. How could I put into words the horrors I saw?"

"Emma gave 'em half interest in this place as a wedding present. They're breedin' a good stock of horses. Next year they hope to buy a bull and some cows and start a cattle herd." Teaspoon explained.

"I'm happy for them." The voice cracked, but there was no doubt the sentiment was sincere.

"Lou's brother and sister are livin' with 'em."

"Where are they now?"

Hickok's gun belt rattled loudly in the sudden silence. Reluctantly he said, "They went to visit Rachel before Lou gets too big to travel."

A sudden wave of jealousy threatened to destroy the Kid. Instead of a ranch and children, he had memories of pain and death. How much more was he expected to sacrifice?

"They'll be happy to see you when they get back tomorrow," Teaspoon said with an obviously forced lilt to his voice.

The Kid straightened his shoulders and shook his head. "I won't be here."

"Runnin' away ain't the answer, Kid," Teaspoon sadly noted.

"Stayin ain’t the answer either, Teaspoon." Finally turning to face his old friends, the Kid asked, "Do you honestly believe the marriage is strong enough to endure my return?" 

"They care for each other a lot."

"And someday that caring will become a love that no one will be able to destroy. But someday isn't tomorrow."

"Where will you go?"

"Someplace the war hasn't touched."

"There is no such place," Teaspoon contradicted. "You can run from Virginia and you can run from here, but you can't run from your memories."

"I gotta try."

The knowledge that he could say nothing that would alter the decision was clearly apparent in Teaspoon's eyes. Picking up an empty saddlebag, he filled it with food. Handing it to the Kid, he said, "There's an appaloosa in the barn I think you'll like. Your spare saddle and bridle are still in the tack room. Ike's kept ‘em in good condition though he could never bring himself to use it."

The look on Teaspoon's face stopped the Kids' automatic protest at such generosity. Humbly he said, "Thank Ike for me, Teaspoon."

His voice gruff with suppressed emotion, Teaspoon turned to address his recalcitrant young deputy. "Mr. Hickok, you never did explain what brought you out here in the first place?"

"I got a letter from General Custer. He wants me to do some scoutin' for him again. I've decided to go, Teaspoon."

The older man rubbed the side of his face with one hand while adjusting his gun belt with the other. "You gotta do what ya think is right, Jimmy."

No longer boys, the two men walked out of the bunkhouse together. Silently, they saddled a paint and a buckskin. Side by side, they rode away and never looked back. When a fork came in the trail, one took the left and the other took the right.


End file.
